


Alone, Together

by andromedasgalaxy



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort but I think I forgot the comfort, Kinda, season two spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29271027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedasgalaxy/pseuds/andromedasgalaxy
Summary: Sometimes it’s the strongest people who just need someone to be strong forthem.Cross posted on tumblr under ohnopoe.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Alone, Together

The silence echoed through the command centre, holding a weight upon your chest that felt akin to drowning. It seemed as though time itself was standing still as you stood there, engulfed in what had just happened, in the anguish that was threatening to creep in.

Of course, you had half expected something like this from the very beginning, it was the plan, after all. Grogu was with his kind now, with a jedi who could train and protect him so much better than you and Din ever could. You’d spent so long trying to convince yourself not to get attached, to enjoy the moments you shared with the curious child with a safe protective layer between you, but that was never really going to work, now, was it?

From the moment you had joined the Mandalorian on the Razor Crest, the duo had captured your heart, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

It had taken a surprisingly short amount of time to truly feel apart of the odd little crew. With such a stoic being as Din leading the charge, and a fifty year old child enamoured by his every shiny movement, you had thought it would simply be a job, just another in a long line of careers you had dabbled in throughout the galaxy. But it was so much more.

Looking after Grogu had been so much more than a job, it had been a delight, even in when he was determined to throw a tantrum when you all desperately needed sleep. It wasn’t long before the child became something akin to a friend, albeit a small, incoherent, gnawing on anything that shouldn’t go anywhere near a mouth, friend, but a friend nonetheless.

And somewhere along the line, the Mandalorian followed.

It was in the soft utterances that were barely heard, the gentle actions that weren’t necessary, but were always welcomed with a beaming smile. He wasn’t one for words, but he would show how he cared day by day. 

A fruit you enjoyed on a random planet _just so happened_ to be amongst the groceries after you exclaimed your joy upon tasting it. A new pillow was sitting on your bed a few days after he noticed you rubbing your stiff neck in the mornings. And when he found you nervous to be left alone on the Crest on a particularly dangerous planet? Well, suddenly there was time to take a day off to make sure you were comfortable with not only the weapons to defend yourself, but the controls of the Crest should you need to get yourself and the child out of there.

Yes, somewhere along the line, you had forged something of a friendship with the very same man who had unintentionally frightened you silent upon your first meeting. And if at some point your feelings for him had started to slip to something less platonic, well, that was neither here nor there.

Especially now, as you stood by his side in that same pained silence that still echoed through the Imperial ship.

Now, he needed a friend.

His helmet had been removed for the child, he had destroyed his creed, and, as tempting as it might have been, you had kept your gaze firmly on the ground the entire time, determined to respect his beliefs right down to the end.

The pain and anguish you felt at the sight of those gigantic sad eyes as Grogu had left was incomparable, but, even in your pain, you knew it was _nothing_ compared to the hurt the Mandalorian at your side must be feeling.

There were too many in the room, battle hardened warriors each one of them, and you knew words of comfort or sympathy would do little at such a time, so you did the only thing you could think of.

With your gaze still firmly fixated on the floor, you pushed the pain aside, something to be addressed later, when you were alone, when you didn’t have to be the rock for the same man who had unknowingly been the same for you time after time in his own resilient manner.

Your hand barely moved, slow and subtle as you reached across the small distance to him. Unhurried, gentle, as if trying not to scare a wild animal, your fingers found his, curling into his hold in a silent show of camaraderie that had the heartbroken man turning his head towards you.

With your gaze still focused on the floor at your feet, you didn’t see the way those deep brown eyes took you in, savouring the sight, awed by the way you remained diligently refusing to glance his way. You didn’t see the years of pain and heartbreak that swam in that tear stung gaze, didn’t see the anguish that flittered there, fighting against an unwavering affection for you that seemed to have made its home there long ago.

But you did feel the way his hand clasped around yours, large and warm, even through the leather of his gloves. It practically engulfed your own hand, and yet, the desperate hold almost made it seem small, uncertain, as if this one action, your hand in his, was the only thing keeping him together as his world fell apart once more.

* * *

Time that had moved so slowly seemed to suddenly fly into overdrive. Boba was back to pick up Fennec, Bo was, begrudgingly, focusing on what could be salvaged from the Imperial ship, Cara was setting off with Gideon, and, while you certainly seemed to be taking in whatever was thrown your way, it still felt a world away.

A decision had to be made, and before you knew it you were walking behind Cara and her new prisoner, still hand in hand with the Mandalorian who hadn’t dared let go of your hand since the moment you had offered it.

Somewhere along the way you had made it clear that you would remain with the Mandalorian, no matter what was to come, although you weren’t entirely certain the words had ever actually been spoken aloud. But any alternative was practically laughable. How could you possibly leave him now? How could you ever?

And then you were on the ship, _when had that happened?_ And Gideon had been silenced once more with a hasty gag that was a desperate plea for what little sanity your little trio had left to not run astray (and possibly to keep Cara from killing him before she could make it to the New Republic). And then? Well, then was _now_ wasn’t it? Alone in the cramped personal quarters of the shuttle, truly _alone_ for the first time in weeks. 

There was a time when being alone felt rejuvenating, refreshing even. The quiet solitude a haven from the chaos of so many busy planets, of so many _people_. When had that changed?

With a sad smile, you almost scoffed at the question the moment it flittered into your mind. You knew damn well when.

Silence had never lasted all that long on the Crest, no matter how tired you and Din might have been, the little green eared monster was _determined_ to run amok, causing a clamouring of sounds in his wake. It was so easy to find it irritating when you were woken from only two hours of blissful sleep after days of being forced awake. It was easy to sigh and grapple with the playful child and remind him that this was _sleep_ time, not play time, and if he wasn’t going to get some rest he had to at least let you get some.

But now, in the eerie silence of the Imperial shuttle you had commandeered in an effort to save the frog eating little bugger, you longed for those sounds. The chaos and cacophony of Grogu was a part of what had become your home, and now, yet another part of it was gone forever.

You couldn’t say when the tears had begun, or when they had slipped from silent streams to harsh sobs that wrecked their way through your body. But, curled up on the militantly neat bunk bed you had claimed as your own, you couldn’t have cared less.

Finally, you were alone, after hours of planning and debating, hours of being the solid rock for the man you had come to care so deeply for. Now was your chance to grieve everything you had lost, in the solitude of the clinically white cube someone had deigned appropriate to be a bedroom.

Visions of green ears and large eyes swam through your mind, memories entangled with daydreams as you thought about what had been, and what was to come for the small child you had grown to love. 

But he was gone now, along with the Razor Crest that had become your home, although, thankfully, in a much less dramatic fashion.

Would that just be the way for all the things you loved? Would the same soon follow for Din?

A sound, far harsher than a sob, rattled its way from your chest at the thought. Surely he would be the next to leave, returning to his old life or helping rebuild Mandalore… either way, he no longer had a need for you now, did he? What use would he have for a glorified babysitter with no baby?

The sound of your tears would have been harrowing, were it not for the safety of those Imperial walls that surrounded you. Sobs and groans slipped from one to another as your tears soaked the stark white pillow beneath you. Curled up into the smallest ball you could manage, you let go.

That pain you’d pushed away earlier? Well, it was back, tenfold.

This was why you had never meant to get attached, this, right here, the aching hole that wanted to consume you, yet seemed to echo out from your very chest. It was a pain like no other, grief mixed with fear, sorrow mixed with a loneliness you could never put into words. A profound war of emotions that had your body shaken, and your mind so lost in its anguish, that you didn’t even hear the way the doors slid open, or the heartbroken sigh that followed.

Din was used to being alone. Even with you and Grogu aboard the Razor Crest with him, he would often find himself focused on a job while you distracted the little womp rat in the hull. It was just a part of life, until it wasn’t. Until he found himself working down there alongside you, until he found himself seeking out the joyful sounds of you playing with the child who was somehow older than either of you.

But even still, he was used to your absence, no matter how desperately he wished he weren’t.

So, as much as he desperately wanted to follow you when you claimed to need some rest, no matter how much he wanted to cling to your hand, to the intense amount of comfort such a small gesture had given him, he had let you go.

But that was nearly an hour ago now, and he couldn’t bare it any longer, and a small part of him hoped beyond all things that maybe, just maybe, you couldn’t either.

As the door slid open, and the broken sound of your tears perforated the air, a small sliver of what was left of his heart broke.

You had been so strong, had remained diligent and determined, had been the support he could never ask for, but desperately needed in his dark hour, and here you were, breaking apart _alone._

It wasn’t until the harsh mattress beneath you shifted that you even realised you were no longer alone. Turning quickly, panicked and wide eyed, you gazed through blurry eyes at the foreign site before you.

Din still had all his armour in place, his helmet having returned to his head long ago, but his very being looked so different. It was in the way he stooped forwards, his elbows balanced on his knees as if the weight of the world was quite literally weighing him down. It was in the way his head hung low, but still faced you determinedly, as though he couldn’t decide what was worse, watching your broken wails, or turning away from them.

A harsh intake of breath. A desperate rub of your sleeve against your eyes in some plea that it might somehow make you look somewhat put together. You couldn’t meet his gaze, even behind the wall of his visor, but you would do what you had to in order to try and appear composed.

But he was shaking his head, slowly, reassuringly. You couldn’t be certain he was even aware of his actions as his hand found your leg, squeezing gently.

“Don’t,” his voice sounded harsher than usual, as if it had been filtered through sandpaper on its way through his helmet, and the rough sound had him pausing once more, as if startled to hear his own voice.

But he persisted nonetheless, pushing past the way his throat felt dry, past the ache each word brought forward.

“It’s ok to cry,” his voice was quieter now, an attempt at softness even through the pain he felt. “You don’t need to hold it in, not for me, not for anyone.”


End file.
